Forgiveness: A Tate and Violet Love Story
by Shitshesaid
Summary: After Violet kisses Tate goodbye they don't see each other for a year and five months. When they meet again Violet has to try and find it in herself to forgive Tate, the man who loves her more than anything.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nothing about American Horror Story belongs to me. This is a work of fiction. I hope you enjoy.**

It smelled heavily of dust and moth balls, the attic that is. The single ray of sunlight struggled to make its way through the grime that seemed to be painted onto the sole windowpane. A red ball rolled back and forth across the jagged wooden floorboards, it had one path, from one end to the other. This small path, only inches wide, was the only part of the attic that was free from the flakes of filth that floated down from the rafters.

Violet sat, cross legged, on the floor near the stairs that led up to the attic. Every few seconds the ball would once again roll into the beam of light and into her waiting hands. Without thinking, she would then roll it back to Beau, who would in turn, roll it back to her. Violet would spend hours upon hours each week doing this same activity; it gave her some interaction, even if Beau wasn't the most talkative ghost in the house.

Besides her parents and her baby brother, Violet only ever spent time with Beau, the rest of the house got on her nerves too much. They were all too self pretentious, needy I guess one could say. With little to do, Violet just wasted away time doing the same activities she had done the day before. As horrendous as it was to admit, she almost wished that family had moved in. Sure, they probably would have died, but it would have at least been something to watch, almost like a scary movie, none of which they had in the house.

For as much as Chad loved Halloween, he did not like horror movies because they weren't "realistic" enough for him. That, of course, was a load of crap since half of what's in horror movies was personally done to him. If that wasn't enough, Nora said she wouldn't have any of those movies ruining her baby, the baby she did nothing with.

Violet let out a sigh as the red ball hit her palms again. She rolled it one last time before standing and brushing off her black skirt and the dark floral leggings underneath. The ball didn't return, so she figured Beau had gotten the hint that she was leaving.

As Violet turned around she came face to face with a blonde boy. Startled, she quickly stumbled backwards, into the lone spot of sunlight. She heard a quick intake from the boy, "Vi, you look beautiful."

Violet shook her head and looked down at the worn converse that covered her feet, her long auburn hair falling into her eyes. "No Tate," she muttered as she crossed her arms. The old vintage sweater fell off of one of her shoulders, revealing yet another layer that she had put on.

Tate took a step towards her, his eyes pleading, praying that she would look up at him. He stopped a few feet short of her, not wanting to push his luck. Honestly, it felt amazing being in the same room as her, he had wanted this since the night she had kissed him that last time.

"What are you doing here? In the attic, I mean." Violet tried to speak with conviction, but her nerves of being around him got her, resulting in her voice quivering. She quickly peaked up at his tall frame, but only long enough to see his golden locks, before setting her gaze back on the rotting floor.

"I'm here to see my brother, if I had known you were here I would have waited. I swear Violet. I can leave, wait until you are gone." Tate shoved his hands deep into his pockets and kept his focus on her.

Violet sighed and uncrossed her arms, letting them hang by her sides as she thought. It was silly, really, to banish him from every room she was in. They were going to be stuck with each other for eternity, unless someone found some way to get them out of this holy hell. Violet didn't know how long it had been since she had kissed Tate goodbye, it could have been weeks, months, or maybe even years. Time had no meaning to Violet anymore, minutes, hours, days, it all seemed like the same thing to her.

As Tate was turning his back to her, she reached out and touched his arm lightly, retracting immediately after she did so. Violet could have sworn she had felt a light shock when she had brushed his arm. It had been so long that she had almost forgotten the electricity her and Tate had. It was something unusual, like every time they touched the planets aligned, making some sort of chemical reaction.

"Tate, wait."

Tate spun around to look at her, was this going to be the moment? The moment he had been dreaming about for one year and five months. For almost a year and a half he had been down in the basement, begging for forgiveness to anyone that would listen to him. Hell, he had even apologized to the overly dramatic Chad. Tate looked into her beautiful eyes, the eyes that made him feel like a good person, not a psychopath.

"We are going to be living here for a long time, together, under the same roof. There is no getting past that. So, it seems silly to try and avoid each other at every turn. I think we can handle being in the same room while still being civil." Violet paused, watching Tate who had a smile spread across his face. "I don't forgive you, so don't think that. But, I might be ready to start working towards being friends again."

Tate's smile didn't falter. Friends, boyfriend, husband, he didn't care what he was to Violet, as long as he could spend time with the woman who stole his heart.

"Just friends Tate, nothing more."

"Just friends. Don't worry Vi, I understand."

"So I'll see you around then, around the house."

"I'll see you later Vi."

As soon at Violet has descended the stairs and closed the door to the attic, Tate couldn't help but to throw a triumphant fist into the air.

 **Hello! This is my first AHS fanfiction ever. I absolutely love Tate and Violet's story, and I wanted more of it, so I decided to do it myself. I hoped you all enjoyed the first chapter. Please follow and review!**

 **xoxo~Emi**


	2. Chapter 2

The light poured into Violet's room through her shade-less windows, waking her up from the little sleep she could have, if it was even called sleep. Her arm instantly went up to shield her eyes from the bright light, and she rolled over to the other side of the bed that had been unused for a year and five months, unused since the night she had bid Tate a tearful farewell.

After the first few weeks it still smelled like him, so she washed it, not wanting to wake up clutching the pillow to her chest anymore. But still, even after the countless number of months, every time Violet rolled over, a small part of her expected to see Tate laying there.

Tate was so peaceful when he slept, which made Violet feel like they were a normal couple. He would lay on his back, his arm bent up behind him so he could rest his head on it. Tate would drift in and out of "sleep" all night, and he rarely ever moved, except to look over at Violet while she was sleeping. On occasion he would wrap her up in his arms, cradling her petite frame to his body. But, that didn't happen too often, only when her dreams made her squirm and cry out. Although, it did tend to happen more, once she had died because her body wasn't meant to sleep for such a long time.

Violet reached her hand out and placed it on the mattress, in the exact spot Tate's chest would have been. She allowed herself another minute of thinking about him before she rolled back over to her side and sat up, slowly and groggily. The alarm clock on her nightstand read 7:03 a.m. and Violet decided it was a decent enough hour to get up.

She stripped from her pajama bottoms and a loose tank top, throwing them in a pile on her unmade bed. Violet then fished through her drawers to grab a black bandeau, a baggy white shirt that had the sleeves cut off of it, an oversized plum cardigan, and black leggings. She finished off the outfit with a pair of black platform ankle boots and a light brush of blush over her cheeks.

Violet had always been pale, but being dead brought her from pale to stark white, forcing her to wear blush every day. She usually didn't bother with any other make-up anymore. She saw the same people day in and day out and without Tate, there was no need to try and impress anyone.

Without anyone lurking around in the common spaces of the house, Violet went out into the garden and sat on the brick wall. She kicked her feet back and forth, hitting the wall and making a quiet "thud" sound. Violet stayed in the shade, knowing the sun wouldn't be able to supply any color to her skin, so there was no point in sweating without a reward.

The wind soon began to blow, and as it did a familiar scent wafted up Violet's nose. It was a scent she would know anywhere, one that had imprinted itself into her brain. "Tate."

She spoke aloud, but didn't turn to face him. Now that she knew he was there, Violet knew exactly where he was standing; slightly behind her and to the left.

"Hi Vi." She could hear his footsteps on the ground as he walked around the small wall and to the other side so he could see her more clearly. The first thing she saw on him was his beat up black Vans that had so many holes in them she was surprised they hadn't fallen off his feet yet. "Is it okay that I'm out here? So close to you."

Violet's eyes slowly made their way up his body, over the ripped jeans and a tight fitting black long sleeve tee shirt. When her dark brown orbs reached his face, her heart fluttered in her chest a bit, causing goose bumps to appear on her cardigan covered arms. "No Tate, don't leave. We're working on becoming friends right?" She moved over slightly on the wall to make room for him.

Tate hopped up on the bricks, sitting rather close to Violet. He wasn't touching her, but she swore she felt some sort of energy pass between them. She reached her hands down onto the maroon bricks and wrapped her delicate fingers around the coarse edge of the wall. As soon as she did, Tate did the same thing, except his hands looked rough and calloused. She peered down at Tate's hand, resting close to her, mere centimeters apart. Without thinking, Violet stretched her pinky out and brushed his hand, but didn't leave it there, only passing contact, which lasted for less than a second.

"Sorry," she muttered, hoping Tate would think the physical contact was some sort of an accident.

Her gaze left his hands and she finally gathered the courage to set it on his face. He was even more beautiful up close, like some sort of angel, a beacon of light in this hell hole, except for his eyes. His eyes were so dark, it was like looking in the face of the devil himself, his eyes terrified her, but she loved it. Tate was dangerous, with looks that made her swoon, but words that made her want to crawl inside her own skin.

Violet was trying to find something to say to him, but she didn't know what. They used to sit in her room for hours on end, talking about nothing, but that seemed too casual now, something that the living did; not the dead. Before she could string together a coherent sentence, she felt his calloused hand wrap around hers and give it a squeeze, then leave it there.

Alarmed, she flashed her eyes down to their hands and then back up at him. "Tate, I said friends." Violet tried to shake his hand off of hers, but he wasn't letting go.

"Friends do this. Don't they?" He raised his eyebrows up at her, and she let out a deep sigh.

"I-I don't know. I'm not really the best at making friends."

"Well you have me, forever." He gave her hand another quick squeeze before launching into a conversation, like she had never said goodbye.

 **Here is the second chapter! I hope you guys like it... if anyone is actually reading this.**

 **I'm thinking about starting up some one-shots, so if any of you have any suggestions or requests for one-shots, leave a comment.**

 **xoxo~Emi**


	3. Chapter 3

CAUTION: Smut Warning!

Steam started to meander its way out from under the bathroom door and into the hallway, and with it the sound of Violet's voice singing along to a song. It was a classic rock song, not one of those repetitive pop trash songs they play nowadays.

Her pitch was off, and the tempo seemed to be a bit too fast, but to Tate it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He sat directly across from the wooden door, his head against the wall and his eyes closed. His foot tapped along with the mismatched beat of Violet's voice and his hands gripped his knees.

Tate did this quite often, he waited outside the door for Violet. Not that he would never tell her that, she'd punch him in the face if she knew. But he felt like he had to protect her, even though she was dead and didn't want anything to do with him most of the time. They had been trying to be friends, they would make awkward small talk and Tate would try to find any reason to make physical contact. Even the smallest thing made his day, like when they passed each other on the stairs and their arms brushed.

The biggest step had been when they spent a whole afternoon in the attic with Beau, not talking, just rolling the ball back and forth. Tate didn't know about Violet, but he knew he and Beau had the time of their lives.

Even though these little moments with Violet were great, and something he would never take for granted, he couldn't help but want her. Like really want her. When their arms would brush on the stairs Tate just wanted to rip off her clothes, shove her against the wall and taste her. God, she tasted like sweet nectar, it was like trying to keep a delicious red wine away from an alcoholic.

Tate's attention snapped back when the singing stopped but the water continued to run. He sat up a little straighter and leaned towards the door. The water and the door were muffling the sound in the bathroom, making it hard for Tate to hear anything at all. Through the sound of pounding water he could have sworn he heard a groan.

Tate's mind automatically flashed to him dragging Violet's unconscious body down the hallway and into the bathroom. The sound of the water and her groans as her life slipped away would forever haunt his memories.

As soon as Tate heard a second groan he jumped to his feet and made his way past the door, without a sound. Advantages of being dead.

Without the door muffling the noise, he quickly realized that what he thought were groans of distress were actually moans of pleasure. He could make her shape out through the shower curtain, and the silhouette of her with her knees slightly bent and her hand between her legs was almost enough to make him explode on the spot.

Just when he didn't think he could handle anymore her perfect angelic voice softly moaned, "Tate."

He was frozen, in place, almost unsure that he heard her correctly.

"Uh, yes Tate, harder. Harderrr…"

As her breathing picked up there was only one thing that he could think to do, and that was to let her know he was in here.

"Oh! Tate!" She exclaimed, her voice getting louder as she got closer and closer to orgasm.

" Yes Vi?"

At the sound of his voice, the moans and the whispers of his name stopped. Her body straightened like a rigid board, and he could see her fingers wrap around the edge of the shower curtain and pull it to the side just so she could stick her head out.

"Tate? What the hell are you doing in here?!" Her face was turning five shades of red, not with embarrassment, but with anger.

"I thought you were in tro-"

"You thought I was in trouble? Does it look like I'm in trouble?"

"Well-"

"Well I'm not, so get the fuck out of the bathroom Tate."

Tate took a few steps towards the shower and he could see her shooting daggers at him with her eyes, but he chose to ignore them.

"What I was going to say is, yes. Yes, it does look like you're in trouble." He ran his fingers through his blonde wavy hair before curing his fingers around the hem of his shirt. With one swift movement the shirt was off his body and lying on the white bathroom tiles. "Vi, you need me. I could hear your moans, and I can go harder baby. So. Much Harder."

With each of those words he made another step towards the bathtub until he was standing right in front of Violet.

She looked him up and down before reaching her hands out so she could undo his belt buckle. After struggling with it, and with Tate's help she finally got it undone and then pulled him into the bathtub with her.

The water poured down on them as she undid the rest of Tate's pants and pulled both the jeans and the boxers down in one motion. His hands quickly found Violet's breasts and he cupped them as he bent down to capture her lips with his.

Tate started to move his mouth down to Violet's other set of lips, but before he could she pulled him back up.

"No, no foreplay. I need you. Now."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Tate pushed her bare back up against the cold tiled wall and thrust into her all at once. He attacked her mouth like it was his only supply of oxygen, and he had asthma.

"This doesn't change anything. We are not together." Violet panted as she moved her mouth down to bite his shoulder.

"Just tell me then you want it harder babe."

 **I hope people are enjoying this. If you are please favorite, share, and review!**

 **xoxo~Emi**


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